


November Post

by Wreck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Challenge Response, Drabble, F/M, my het OTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreck/pseuds/Wreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But just as it always did, the first week in November arrived with a letter from her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	November Post

**Author's Note:**

> propmt from Riddlemesphinx:  
> setting: Coffee Shop AU  
> prompt: "she ran after him"  
> time limit: 15 mins
> 
> un-beta'd. let me know if anything is horribly wrong.  
> And yes, I realize how random this is...

No one would have expected this of her life, and she knew that quite well. In fact, her family had been quite vocal in their opinions regarding her life choices. Mostly, she tried not to think of it. 

But just as it always did, the first week in November arrived with a letter from her father. It was not to wish her a happy birthday, the way that a normal father would have done the week of his daughter’s birthday. No, it was to list her accomplishments, and to remind her of how much potential she once had; remind her what being a Black was all about.

And mostly, it was to express how ashamed they all are of her and her life choices. 

But for Narcissa Black it was never a choice. She knew the deep roots of her family were proud and strong, and she knew how everyone would react. But when she met the Malfoy boy, she knew she could never live without him, and so she ran after him, even as her family chased him away.

Because it was one thing for Lucius to be “new money,” trying to make his own way in the world and not rest on his father’s laurels. But to the old and prestigious Black family, owning your own high-end, gourmet coffee bar was a bit too “hands on” for their taste. And the thought of their prize of a daughter behind a counter, serving a commoner coffee, well... no one outright said that’s what killed the old Mrs. Black, but it was implied in every stroke of her father’s hand, in every letter he had sent over the past 10 years.


End file.
